Dare to Dream, Quistis...
by Bella Ragazza
Summary: We can be or do anything...if only in our fantasies alone...The place where sweet wishings and harsh realities collide. R/R.


Dare To Dream, Quistis-- by General Beatrix  
  
A/N: Just something to think about ^-^ Not much to say, folks. R/R.  
  
We can be or do anything...if only in our fantasies alone...The place where sweet wishings and harsh realities collide.  
  
  
  
*Oh sweet clutches of repose, take me to that place where my days shine as golden as the rising sun!*  
  
  
I hate August. It's so sticky and hot, the humidity crawling into every nook and cranny of this stuffy cramped dormroom. No breeze will seep in through the mesh screen, caressing my body with it's tender fingers. The air is choking and moist, undeserving of the name oxygen on this particular night. This ancient ceiling fan is a complete joke, barely circulating the little air there is. Even the white cotton sheets are unforgiving tonight, itchy and plastered to my thighs like saran-wrap. I want to scream, to grab fistfuls of golden hair and holler like a banshee.   
  
  
Nighttime has been unpleasant for as long as I can remember. Darkness turns ordinary objects into wicked demons, fooling the mind's eye to the point of near panic. The clock ticks ring in my ears, creaking noises one pays no mind to in the light hour are amplified to rival nuclear explosions. Everything is shrouded in shapes and shadows and mystery. It's so much safer in the day, where things are orderly and organized. I do what I have to do and that's that. No room for questions, no wonder, no 'what if's' or 'could be's'...just work. The business soothes my soul, calming me, knowing I'm fulfilling my goals. I shine in those waking hours, with a professional demeanor and a dazzling smile to boot. During those times I am untouchable, afloat on the singing praises of a job well done.  
  
  
Inevitably, the sun must set, and I resign myself to the confines of this tiny room, where my whole life's worth is crammed into a couple of shelves and a closet with a broken knob. There is time here, in between these four blank walls. Hours of darkness I am obligated to spend alone. My mind longs to be set free, to idle in the place where enchantments of my fancy can roam wildly. I glower at the dismal interior...is there not more than this? Can a sum of a person's life be confined, caged in this unfeeling box where no feet trod except my own?  
  
I've worked so hard...  
  
Come so far...  
  
For what?  
  
To slip my card key in the door every night and face the music of utter loneliness? To slide into my freshly laundered covers to wish a head would rest on the pillow beside mine?  
  
  
The lump in my throat becoming bothersome, I slip out of bed and pad quietly into the bathroom, feet silenced by the worn blue carpet that's seen better days. I turn on the cold tap, clanking my mug against the porcelain sink to fill. The soft sound of running water lessens the throbbing sensation in my head as it overflows to the brim. Taking a refreshing sip, I use the rest to splash my face, the pure coolness contrasting with the heat of the room . Sighing, I gaze into the mirror unaware of the truth reflected in the glass. There is no blonde beauty with hair like spun gold, the slim hips and womanly curves have all vanished into some unseen mist. I see a scared little girl, cornflower blue eyes searching hopelessly for inner peace, to somehow ease the ache in my heart.   
  
Climbing back into the bed, I note the late hour. A silvery full moon is lighting the sky, crickets and cicadas singing foreign tunes to one another in dewy grass. My head throbs, my heart hurts. I need an escape, a place where I can feel complete, the void in my life filled by some missing link.  
  
So tonight, I will dream, allowing myself guilty pleasures of child-like wishes. I deserve at least that, to live and love as I want, even if only in the land of subconscious illusions. Here I am the bride in the dress of snowy silk, the crowd a haze, obscured by the veil of marriage.  
  
My white slippers trip silently down the aisle, gown rustling softly against my calves. I see you...waiting for me as you do every night, face alight with love and adoration.  
  
You grasp my hand, as I stand beside you on the altar of marital bliss, where all is sweet and heavenly and as perfect as I can conjure. If I had it my way, angels would play trumpets in the cerulean skies, the whole world and the heavens aware of our companionship.  
  
I can almost feel the weight of ring on my finger as you say the vows of our love, tears threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. I repeat them, slowly, relishing every second of this blessed moment.  
  
Strong, confident fingers nimbly lift the gauzy white shroud from my face, allowing me to see you as clearly as I could ever want to.  
  
The covers are now cool and comforting, a burst of cool air washes over my flushed form as I slip into the gentle embrace of repose, where all is mine until the golden sun peeks it's head over the eastern horizion.  
  
"I do Squall...I do."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
